Some real big northerns are biting by the Union right now in the weeds. We got a few 34" last weekend. Have to be 40" to keep though. For some reason they bite like crazy on first/clear ice. Every flag gets your heart racing, you can hook into a 50" at any time on Mendota.

Oh, isn't snow-free black ice fantastic? What surprised me in the picture was the lack of iceboats, especially with wind.

BTW, you might enjoy the mini-sails -- small enough to hold in your arms -- that allow you to become your own little iceboat. As long as your ankles are strong you'd be amazed how fast you can go, even upwind.

Oh, and 'edutcher,' ice thickness is rarely a problem that far north, and when it is the northerners are usually aware of the limitations.

Nearly 40 years ago we used to haul about six real cords of wood -- two tons each -- on an old fire truck ... along one of the lakes at the headwaters of the Yukon River. On top of 2000 feet of water.

When someone asked how much ice we needed to do that, a friend replied "Way too much is just about right."

What is creepy and thrilling is when the ice cracks. It makes a booming sound that reverberates. Also, the nice thing about black ice is that when you come to a shallow area, you can see the rocks and weeds below your feet.

The snow didn't snag us at all, but sometimes the snow was there because there was a dent in the ice, and that could grab you.

"Uh, you do have a life preserver or something underneath that, don't you? I would be a little worried about the ice that far out."

The ice was so clear, that you could see down to bubbles (and the end of the cracks), so it was easy to see that the ice was quite thick. About 8 inches.

"Wow, that ice is awesomely smooth-looking. I never did get the hang of ice skating. But I can roller skate."

It's worth learning. I skated years ago, and we just gave each other skates for Christmas. I've gone out 4 times, and I've gotten much better each time. It's really a cool feeling, gliding on ice. Also, it's an important alternative to cross-country skiing for days like today when there's not enough snow.

And, yes, it was awesomely beautiful black ice. I felt extremely lucky, even though I got tired skating back against the wind and, tired, I fell down 3 times, the third time backwards and clonking my head really hard.

Awesome, Ann...I'm jealous. I've ventured to Eagle River the last 3 years in February for the annual pond hockey tourney but won't be coming this year. Taking the year off. Always love coming to northern Wisconsin, its beautiful.

Penny said...Ice skating was a big part of my life growing up. Day skating on the canal, and night skating by bonfire at a friend's pond.

When I was much younger I lived in Cleveland for a time. I used to go skating at an indoor rink (the river and lake were way to dirty). It was a great place to meet girls and to pair skate listening to Wurlitzer organ music.

I haven't ice skated in many years and not outside since my grandparents were alive and living in Wheaton, Illinois. This recent series is making me wonder why I ever gave it up--and, more important, why on earth I've neglected to give my own son such winter memories!

I live just up the street from the Mississippi in a smallish Midwest city. Not sure if you're trying to imply something or not, but my son can't "virtually" do anything in his room since there's no computer there, and we're more free-range than overprotective, within our physical context. Hell, we even let the boy shoot--gasp! wait for it!--guns!

chickelit said... "One day I ran across a couple of clowns closer in by the Union"

Along with WSA Vice-President Leon Varjian, Mallon oversaw the redirection of the groups budget away from various social causes in the direction of artistic projects, including several startling and amusing public neo-Dadaist stunts. One morning WSA filled Bascom Hill with hundreds of plastic pink flamingos. Perhaps the most memorable stunt created by Mallon's crew was the creation of a replica of the top of the Statue of Liberty. Placed on the frozen ice of Lake Mendota unannounced, it gave the appearance of the statue standing at the bottom of the lake and frozen in up to its nose.

My mother actually was raised on a farm, as were her parents, as were their parents, and so on. Still, my grandmother, my mother's mom, upon realizing my mom's interest and talent, drove her young daughter a considerable distance to Indianapolis, every week, for a long time, in order to provide her with the appropriate music lessons.

Now, I suppose one could say that if she, my grandmother, wanted to provide her daughter, my mom, with the amenities of urban life, she--and my grandfather--ought to have just moved to a city. But that would strike me as both slightly ridiculous and entirely impractical.

In any case, I admire my grandmother. I like to think that as different as we were, and despite living in entirely different times, we have a little bit in common insofar as our attitudes to hard boundaries go.